They Call Me Freedom
by republicoftexas
Summary: This is about the one month, every four years, where we all agree on one thing.
1. Chapter 1

The South African man played with the collar of his uniform. His dark fingers flapped it up and down. He was beginning to sweat, he knew. The nervousness probably drained all color out of his face. The date was May 14, 2004 and he was sitting in Zürich, in a black suit, with the FIFA Executive Committee and Morocco on his right and Egypt to his left.

The three African nations were at a media conference in Zürich to hear the news. South Africa was sure they were all nervous, but the North Africans kept their cool, every once in a while attempting to start conversation before the announcement would be made.

As the room around them moved with commotion as the announcement time drew closer, South Africa heard a gentle voice to his left.

"So, Mamello, Sadiqa." the sandy skinned Arab smiled with hazel eyes and turned to the other Africans. "This is a really big deal, yeah? First cup to be held in Africa. Doesn't matter who gets it." Even if Egypt tried to play it off with a careless attitude, the South African knew this would mean the world to him. It would mean the world to any of them.

They were making history by just sitting in the conference room. This would be the first cup to be held in Africa. Of course, it was a big deal for Africans everywhere, no matter where they are. And suddenly, he became nervous. What if the cup wasn't what it was supposed to be? What if he fucked it up somehow? What if wasn't good like the others, held in places like Germany, Japan, or South Korea? Oh god. His breathing became heavy.

"You're right, brother." To his right, Morocco sat with a hijab wrapped loosely around her head, her hands in her lap. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the men. "This is... big, amazing, such a big deal. We are not only representing our own country, but all of Africa and Africans everywhere." She stared at them dead on, her lips slightly parted. "Do you think you could handle such... a big responsibility?"

She was trying to scare them. Mamello knew the young woman enough to know that she had her way with words. And it didn't matter because, for such a pretty little Muslim woman, she scared the shit out of him, he would admit.

"If I couldn't, I wouldn't have bid." Mamello grinned, leaning into his chair. "You two nervous? I am."

"That's a dumb question, of course we are." Gupta pouted, crossing his arms. "We all wanted this." Oh god. They wanted it. And whoever didn't get it was gonna get really drunk that night.

And as much as he loved drinking, South Africa wanted to drink in celebration.

"Hey." South Africa cocked his brow as he turned over to the voice behind them. "You all enjoy the stay in my beautiful country?"

Behind them, they watched as the young Swiss took a seat next to Sadiqa and Liechtenstein, after asking politely, took a seat next to Gupta.

"Vash, it's been too long." Sadiqa purred, smiling. "Zürich is beautiful, thank you for having us." Mamello and Gupta nodded along with her as she continued. "How long until the announcement is to be made?"

Vash glanced down quickly at his wrist watch, "Only about five minutes." Sadiqa flashed one of those million dollar smiles that Mamello was sure won her the bid.

"So... are you guys nervous?" Gupta turned to the girl next to him, blinking at her question.

"Anina, do you have to ask?" Mamello laughed, "I'm the most nervous I've been in... in I don't know how long!" Liechtenstein giggled. "I'm really happy too. Even if I don't get the bid, I know that it'll be represented well by these two idiots here."

The two Muslim nations smiled.

It felt like only seconds later that the conference room went silent. Pure silence was around them as the man up front went on and on about something that Mamello was sure he wasn't interested in.

And then... that was it.

The room burst into a flurry of cheers.

Mamello didn't react until he felt Gupta's hand on his shoulder.

"Mamello! You're hosting the world cup!"

Needless to say, the drinks were on Sadiqa and Gupta and they were the sweetest drinks to have ever graced his and Vash's lips.

––––

Morocco – Sadiqa

Egypt – Gupta

South Africa – Mamello

Liechtenstein – Anina

Wow, so as you probably don't know, I'm a TOTAL FIFA fan. And not just any fan. I'm the type of fan that cries like hell when her team goes on and then cries about it for the next two days. ( the Ghana v. USA game honestly, omg. ) I don't know, this is gonna be a collection of short stories that go around the cup. Just whatever comes to mind. This one takes place when the host nation, South Africa/Mamello, was choosen.


	2. Chapter 2

The game had ended. Mamello stood in disbelief.

_What the hell just happened?_

He was staring into blankness as the final scores were announced. It was a tie game. A tie game of all things. He groaned, slamming himself into the bench. Of course. Of course his opening game was a tie game. And a tie game against _Mexico_ of all nations. Couldn't she have laid off and just let him win this one? This whole thing was taking place in his country after all.

The crowd was going wild and all he could bring himself to do is sulk. He didn't lose, no, but he didn't win either. His head began to pound. _Damnit_, he thought, _we had to tie this one, didn't we? The opening game in our country... we had to tie._

He was going to be hungover tomorrow, he knew that much.

His thoughts were interrupted by a Mexican accent. Mamello groaned to himself. _Here we go._

"Ay! Mamello!" He glanced to his side and watched as a grinning, tanned skinned woman decked out in a Mexican football uniform, slid next to him and crossed her legs. "Tie game."

"I know, I was watching." The African buried his face in his hands.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, kay? You all played a good game, which is why I'm here." Mexico smiled, plucking one of his hands away from his face. "Alfred, Matt, and a few other people wanna take me out for some drinks for not losing and so I thought..."

Mamello shot up a look. "Really, Cecelia?"

The woman smiled. "Hey, man, you didn't lose either and I mean, I dunno if you have plans, but come on, just a drink."

The South African smiled, "My god, thanks Cecelia, sure, I'll come."

"And hey, if you wanna bring anyone, bring them." Mexico grinned. "I'm not sure if you know, but I'm not too familiar with Africa, so bring your buddies along, yeah?"

Mamello grinned, "Yeah."

––––

Mexico – Cecelia

Hahahah, idk what this is. A bored drabble.


End file.
